Ask Cpl. James “Eddie” Wright the whereabouts of his Bronze Star with Combat Distinguishing Device and there's a big, Texas-size pause.

“I think it's in a box somewhere,” Wright said recently from his home in Houston, where he was battling a stubborn boat hitch on his pickup. “I don't even know; my parents have it.”

It's not that Wright doesn't value the medal and what it symbolizes. But as he sees it, the actions that earned him the award were just part of doing his job. If he takes pride in anything, it's in earning the respect of fellow Marines, especially the ones who were there when he lost his hands on April 7, 2004.

“There are a lot of guys out there who do major things and nobody will ever know,” said Wright, who is 31 and single. “You just kind of feel a little awkward having people make such a big deal over something that you would have done anyway.”

Wright was on his second deployment in Iraq two years ago. On that April day, his company was called to escort a convoy of Humvees and trucks to a supply point about 10 miles away in the Anbar province.

As they set out, the road was empty and eerily quiet – typical signs that an ambush or mines lay ahead. The Marines swept the area, found nothing and proceeded with their mission. Wright's team was in the lead Humvee.

“I had a feeling I was going to get hit,” he said. “We certainly knew that this was going to go down, but we didn't have the luxury of any other option.”

Sure enough, the convoy was bombarded with a firestorm of mortars, machine-gun rounds and rocket-propelled grenades. Bullets flew through one window of Wright's vehicle and out the other; the machine gunner atop the Humvee was hit in the leg and groin.

As Wright and his buddies worked to get the gunner to safety, a rocket-propelled grenade exploded into the vehicle.

Wright opened his eyes. Both hands were gone, blasted from his body.

“I remembered thinking, 'Damn, both of them?'” he told the Marine Corps Times a few months after the ambush. The blast also ruptured his left eardrum and tore into his right thigh, breaking his femur and leaving a gaping hole.

He saw the horrified looks on the faces of junior Marines in his vehicle and knew he had to act quickly and calmly. His Bronze Star citation states that despite Wright's wounds, he “was the epitome of composure.” Wright says his Marine Corps training and unwillingness to die kicked in.

“Understanding the severity of his own injuries, he calmly instructed others on how to remove the radio, call for support and render first aid,” the citation reads. “He also pointed out enemy machine-gun emplacements to his fellow Marines, assisting in the demise of 26 enemies killed in action.”

Wright endured months of grueling recovery. He remained in the Marine Corps for one more year, becoming a sergeant and retiring on May 29. He co-founded and is assistant executive director for www.operationgratefulnation.org, a nonprofit group that helps wounded veterans start businesses and provides mentorships with successful business leaders. The group has raised $350,000.

Wright plans to pursue a business degree at Sam Houston State University starting in January. He has several sets of prosthetic hands – some to wear around the house, some to wear out and about town, some for activities such as diving and lifting weights. His injured leg is missing some muscle, but “I get around fine,” he said.

“It doesn't do any good to sit around feeling sorry for yourself,” Wright said. “You have to make the most of what you have. I try to focus on that to keep myself upbeat.”